


Kalliope

by panicatthesipsco



Series: 3 Minutes Without Oxygen [2]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Multi, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 16:48:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9394313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panicatthesipsco/pseuds/panicatthesipsco
Summary: Under no circumstances should you ever fall for your commanding officer. Especially if he is the only one actually trying to work.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is uhhhh
> 
> /gestures vaguely and throws confetti in the air

Like almost every other morning on their lengthy trip across space, Ross and Smith found themselves beginning the day in a state of awkwardness. Though their living quarters was large, it was unavoidable that the three of them shared a room. And well, unfortunately, Trott could care less about changing in front of him. They had only asked once, if perhaps maybe he would feel more comfortable doing so when they weren’t in the same room, but his dry reply of, “Sorry, mates, but you take too long, and I have work to do,” had all but shut down the conversation.

And they tried their best to keep things professional, but, well, in close quarters after a long period of time, it gets harder and harder to talk yourself out of finding your commander attractive.

Though he was petite in stature, standing at no more than five foot six, he was most certainly not petite in shape. His hips were wide, and had this way of swaying when he moved. And for all the quips he made about their soft bellies, it was unmistakable that he himself had quite a bit of storage in his own stomach and backside to keep him through the cosmic cold. His skin looked soft, like touching his thighs or stomach would be as pleasant as petting cashmere, a thought that continued to cross their minds even when his calves grew bristly with hair that he ‘couldn’t be arsed’ to shave more often than every few weeks. At the present moment, as he carefully pulled open spring-sealed drawers to pull out his clothes, his legs were smooth; he had likely shaved the night before, when the others were already in bed. Though he had no care for the fact they saw him in his underwear on a daily basis, he still maintained his hygiene routine separate from theirs.

He kicked the drawer shut, holding onto a handlebar on the roof so that he wouldn’t propel himself backwards in the lack of gravity, tugging on his pants before tugging off his shirt. Though the former state of undress had always been Ross’ most difficult part of the routine to ignore, Smith found himself struggling to pull his gaze away as Trott’s shirt pulled up and over his head. While Trott’s hips were particularly wide, his breasts were also large and ample, almost to the extent that just looking at them made Smith feel like he was committing some sort of sin. On earth, he had likely just worn a binder, because the two of them had both been caught off-guard the first day that he undressed. And in zero gravity, unfortunately, his endowments had a habit of every so often spilling out of his bra. Not too much, not enough that it would be a problem, but just enough that every so often there were glimpses of the edges of wide brown areola.

Trott tugged the new shirt on over his head, and then spun himself around to face them. Smith and Ross immediately pretended to be busy working out how to turn their shirts right-side out, both of them still in their underwear and t-shirts from the night before.

“I’m ready for some freeze-dried coffee,” Smith said as casually as he could, for his and Ross’ sake.

“Yeah, mate, feels like when you wake up and it’s still nighttime,” Ross replied easily.

Trott kicked off from his side of the room to propel himself towards them, maneuvering between the wide gap between them. He reached out and grabbed onto a handlebar on the ceiling, his left leg finding a foothold atop their dresser, bolted into the wall.

“I’m not stupid, you know,” he said dryly. “You don’t become a commander by being blind.”

“What d'you mean, Commander?” Smith said with the same act of wide-eyed stupidity that he used for every time he forgot to refill the rehydrator.

“You talk in your sleep, you know,” Trott said, skirting the question. “And you,” he jabbed a finger in Ross’ direction, “you’re too heavy of a sleeper to wake up from it.”

Ross blinked in confusion, but by the mortified look falling across Smith’s face, he could guess what kind of things Trott may have heard.

“How much did you hear?” Smith asked, crestfallen, his face burning bright red.

“You went on for at least fifteen minutes,” Trott said evenly, his tone guarded. “I timed it with my watch. It’s frankly a wonder you didn’t wake yourself up.”

Smith buried his face in his hands, hooking one food under a handlebar to keep himself from drifting off.

“Take it as a compliment towards your stamina, mate,” Ross tried to joke, though his tone sounded more reassuring than teasing.

“Don’t act like I’m not onto you, too,” Trott said easily, putting a hand on his hip. From the angle that they were positioned, he had maneuvered himself as if he were standing above them by a few inches, and Ross found he had to look up just to make eye contact.

“Er, I don’t know what you mean, Commander,” he tried to say, though already his face flushed too. It was striking, how similar the entire situation felt to being told off by the principal at school after getting caught ditching class. Ross felt like at any moment, Trott would threaten to call Ross’ parents.

Trott simply sighed, shaking his head. “And I know you two talk about it. Even if I can’t hear the conversations, I can tell when you’re talking about me.” He pursed his lips, before adding, “Did you even have a plan for if the other one of you actually somehow managed to seduce me? Or did you not even bother thinking things through and just mindlessly let your mind wander on the job, another one of your distractions to keep you from _actually_ working?”

“We both decided we would never be able to get anywhere with you,” Smith whined from behind his hands, his voice muffled but his embarrassment clear. “So, you know, stop making a big deal out of it, thanks.”

He was pushing it with the passive-aggressive tone, considering he was speaking to his superior, and he felt a ball of dread begin to form in his stomach as Trott didn’t immediately reply. Smith peeked through his fingers, and found that instead, Trott was giving them both a scrutinizing look, his eyes narrowed and his mouth set in a steely straight line.

Right as Smith was considering how to word his apology, Trott finally spoke up.

“So you never even considered that I might become interested in _both_ of you.”

Ross and Smith glanced between each other, uncertain if it was a joke.

“Oh, come on,” Trott complained. “Not even once you thought about the magical solution where all of it works and no one’s left out?”

“Are you being serious, Trott?” Smith asked, incredulous.

Trott narrowed his eyes, before pushing against the ceiling to move himself downwards, catching onto the dresser to stop himself when he was face to face with Smith. They stared each other straight in the eye before Trott moved himself forward just enough for their mouths to meet.

Smith had to reach out and wedge a palm against the wall, his other foot kicking out a bit awkwardly to catch on a ledge, just to keep from being pushed back by Trott’s own momentum. The kiss wasn’t particularly skillful or elegant, and their lips were mostly just mashed up against each other, but the meaning was clear. Trott was as serious as always.

Despite Smith’s attempts to stay fixated, they were both beginning to slip back, and Trott pulled away, just enough to plant a palm against Smith’s chest and push him back towards the wall. Smith let himself drift, grabbing onto a foothold and a handlebar once his back made contact with the wall, while Trott, shifted and spun himself around. Ross had an expression on his face that could only be described as mesmerized, and it quickly slipped towards awe-struck when Trott reached out and grabbed onto his hand, tugging on him to try to pull them in the direction towards Smith. Trott’s tug was enough to pull Ross up against him, chest to chest, but it took an extra kick off the wall to get moving. Smith helped them along, reaching out and grabbing onto the back of Trott’s shirt before pulling him back, until Trott was somewhat sandwiched between them.

With the benefit of zero-gravity, it took minimal effort for Trott to level himself to their height, though it left him half-straddling Ross’ waist. Trott mumbled, “I’m not your commander right now,” before reaching out and grabbing Ross’ face, pulling his lips against Trott’s. Smith hesitated for just a moment, making eye contact with Ross who looked equally as uncertain, before Smith slipped his hands around Trott’s bare waist, the fabric of Trott’s shirt already pulling up with unspent momentum from their shifting. When he wasn’t reprimanded, Smith decided to push it a bit further, tilting his head down to press his lips against Trott’s neck. Trott only hummed contentedly, pressing back towards Smith, their bodies fitting together.

It was closer to Trott than they’d ever been, his legs spread against Ross, his hips against Smith’s. Ross thankfully was able to quickly push his worries out of his mind, laying his hands on Trott’s waist below Smith’s, his palms against the fabric of Trott’s pants. It took a bit of effort to keep their position relatively stable, but it was easily enough done without focus, freeing his mind up to instead focus on the two men in front of him. Ross was the first to push it past relatively innocent kissing, as his hands slipped down to feel Trott’s hips before sliding back to grab at his ass. Trott inhaled hard through his nose, and his thighs tensed tight, pulling Ross closer.

After spending months in space with him already, it was a lot easier to tell all of Trott’s little tells. He was an incredibly secretive person, but once you figured out his tricks, he was easy to pick apart. And all of the signs were beginning to add up that they weren’t the only ones eager for contact. And on top of all that, it certainly didn’t slip Smith’s attention that Ross’ hands on Trott’s ass were right against Smith’s dick, Ross’ knuckles brushing against him more often than coincidence. While Ross and he had certainly flirted their fair share under the guise of jokes and jabs, it hadn’t exactly come to any tangible fruition. And if Trott had known about their interest in him, their flirting certainly wouldn’t have slipped his attention either. Already, the three of them were making themselves comfy with whatever cozy little arrangement they had found themselves in.

Smith slipped his hands further up Trott’s shirt, and Trott parted his lips in a sigh, something Ross was just about to take advantage of with his tongue, when suddenly the three of them were startled by a loud, shrill beeping coming from Trott’s watch. They disentangled, though not without knocking a few knees and a shoulder to Trott’s cheek. The blessing of zero-gravity, at least, was that the process was more awkward than painful, and Trott quickly held his watch up to his face, examining the interface before pressing a few buttons.

“Sorry, guys,” he said, his tone a few shades of disappointed. “Gotta be your commander again. And your commander says we took up all our breakfast time.”

Smith immediately started whining. Before he could say anything, however, Trott said, “I’ll give you fifteen minutes to straighten yourselves out and eat a few granola bars. After that we gotta work.”

He pushed off from the wall, in the direction of the doorway. Just as he grabbed the door frame, ready to duck out, he added, “And after work, I’m sure you can pick up from where you left off.”


End file.
